Page 166 of Gunner

“Well, you showed up at my house looking for him. Believing I knew where he was. It’s not a stretch that you now think I murdered him. I assume you found him?”

I looked out the window of the patrol car and understood why it was so important to my patients. Disassociation was a powerful stress reliever.

“No. We haven’t found him.”

“Then why do you think he’s dead? And why would I murder him?”

“This has nothing to do with Greg Williams.”

Looking back to the mirror, I saw the deputy eyeing me, waiting for my response. Archie told me to be quiet, and I knew that was the sensible thing to do, but my curiosity got the better of me.

Leaning forward, I asked, “Then who was I supposed to have murdered?”

“Penelope Ridgefield.”

My mouth dropped open, and I sat back against the seat. Penny was dead? There was no love lost between Penny and I, but I would never wish her dead. Especially to be murdered. My eyes watered, and he must have read my sadness at Penny’s death as guilt of being caught.

“That’s right. I got you, bitch.”

Looking into the cold dark eyes of Deputy Reed, I obeyed Archie’s command and shut my mouth. He would call Gunner. The club would help me. I just had to have faith.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Haizley

Quite honestly, I was surprised when Deputy Reed pulled into the station. The look in his eyes when he said,‘I got you, bitch,’held a sinister feeling. Leading me to believe he was unhinged.

I made a mental note to talk to the sheriff about vetting his deputies as well. I didn’t normally have an ego, but it was clear someone had fucked up. How this man had passed any type of psychological evaluation had me concerned for the state of law enforcement as a whole.

He opened the door and grabbed my arm, hauling me out of the vehicle. If I hadn’t ducked my head myself, I would have slammed into the jamb. I saw the motorcycle sitting outside, but we were moving too fast for me to see who it belonged to.

When we walked in, Martha Daniels stood from her desk. She’d known my parents. They were friends. She stepped around her desk in front of Deputy Reed, her hands on her hips.

“Why is that girl in handcuffs?” she demanded.

“Because I arrested her.”

“What the hell for?”

I appreciated Martha’s irritation on my behalf, but I just wanted to get to a room and have these cuffs taken off. My shoulders hurt in a way I had never felt before.

“The murder of Penelope Ridgefield.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

“Martha, get the fuck out of my way.”

We were starting to gather a crowd now. There were two other deputies in the station, as well as an older man I recognized.

“Deputy, please uncuff my client. She poses no danger to you.”

Matlock stared down Deputy Reed. The imposing man didn’t threaten him. He didn’t move to get into his space. He simply stood there in a suit, his hands in his pockets.

The entire town knew Anthony Gallagher was a patched member of the club. He didn’t need to wear his cut to show his authority or demand respect.

A member of the bar in fifteen states, Matlock, aptly named after Benjamin Matlock, played by Andy Griffith in the hit procedural dramaMatlock, never lost a case.

“Fuck you! She is here under suspicion of murder. Murderers are dangerous.”

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